


of beginnings, endings, and non-linear love stories

by sleepy_snail



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, Angel/Demon Relationship, F/F, and i wrote a romance centric fanfic to it, but the end result was more like, except it sucks, if someone has already written a vrisrezi gomens au, this was originally supposed to be a vrisrezi gomens au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 12:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20082454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepy_snail/pseuds/sleepy_snail
Summary: All stories start somewhere and end somewhere. This one, for instance, starts in a small village in the early days of humanity, where a certain angel sees a certain demon for the first time....or maybe it doesn't.





	of beginnings, endings, and non-linear love stories

**Author's Note:**

> a warning for brief mentions of violence against women
> 
> also the obligatory "i'm not a native speaker so this is even worse than it could be" warning
> 
> please do click on the footnotes -- they do take you back to the text!

It starts in a small village in the early days of humanity, where a certain angel sees a certain demon for the first time.

At least it is so from the demon’s perspective; the demon in question, whose name is Vriska, is new to her duties, and she’s now trying her best to appear perfectly great at her job[1]. She’s cool, she’s demonic, she’s well-adjusted already, she’s a bloody demon extraordinaire and soon her bosses Below will know that she’s waaaaaaaay better than any one of them expected her to be. Simply the best there is when it comes to being a demon, actually.

In the meantime, she can be a little curious about the humans around here. It's only reasonable to ask a woman on the street all the casual questions a traveler might ask — she does need to understand humans to tempt them, after all. So she asks and she asks and she asks until the woman, visibly annoyed, makes up an excuse and rushes away to leave a surprised Vriska to herself.

Vriska looks around for another human to bother (or perhaps to tempt; she does need to try how _ that _ works), but it’s not a human who captures her attention. Definitely, by any means, not a human.

The angel is short, dark skinned, a little too pointy for a human, and surprisingly[2] pretty in that disturbing way humans typically aren’t. It’s not any particular trait of hers that makes you feel that way — there’s nothing unusual about her dark coily hair, or her smooth brown skin, or the shape of her body and her face — it’s just that when you look at her, something’s a little off, something you can’t quite put your finger on[3]. 

Her sharp eyes _ are _ unusual though — she’s looking at Vriska as if she recognizes her from somewhere, and that makes her angry[4]; so angry, that, had it not been for the humans, they’d probably have a full-blown divine forces dramatic fight right then and there, before Vriska could even understand why it was happening. The humans, however, are there, so they resort to bickering about good and evil, their conversation as surprisingly devoid of interest as it is exhausting.

It stops way later than it’d make sense for it to, and Vriska leaves the place with a headache and without any demonic accomplishments to brag about. Still, she thinks, there’s something interesting and strange about that angel, something that draws Vriska to her in an inexplicable manner.

* * *

Or, perhaps, it starts earlier — in that blessed or cursed period of regular divine interference, with two angels having a deserved rest after a job well done. They’re sitting on the grass with little space between them, light-colored wings open behind their backs — a rather common feathered pair and a more strange scaled one (“they ARE cool though, aren’t they?”).

“Terezi,” asks one angel of another quietly and uncertainly, as if worried she might be heard, “have you ever thought that, maybe, what we’re doing is a little… wrong? I mean, all that holy… judgement thing?”

It’s not the first time she’s thought about it, certainly, but it’s one thing to think about something and another thing to say it. 

“We’re Angels of Justice, remember?”, says the other reassuringly, “She created us so we would ensure Justice — that’s our purpose. It wouldn’t make much sense for us to do the wrong thing, would it? It’s just… everyone gets what they deserve, that’s the point!”

“Everyone gets what they deserve,'' the first one mumbles under her breath.

“Exactly. It’s Justice!”

The first angel sighs, as if not entirely assured but still not willing to drag the conversation further, but then the other covers her hand with hers, and it all becomes strangely fine.

* * *

Or maybe it starts later, when a demon shows up to an angel with a scar across her perfectly seeing spider eye and another — around her previously torn-off left arm, and a proud smile on her lips. 

She couldn’t attract the angel’s attention to her scars any more even if she’d like to, except maybe by pointing at them directly and saying, “Look at those cool new scars I now have in the same places where you hurt me!”, which she didn’t do.

“It was a clever plan, ain’t gonna lie,'' she said instead, “but don’t think you’ll catch me off guard like that again!”

She really could’ve as well just yelled, “look how much I care about what you do to me” and left it at that.

That is to say, Terezi is baffled and doesn’t really know what to do about it; she expected Vriska to appear fully healed and give her a “you thought you’d get me this easily?” speech, sure, but not _ like that _ , not with those _ marks _ on her skin, reminding them both of what Terezi has done, as if it was something significant, something worth remembering.

Vriska herself, too, has things to think about; It’s the rivalry that’s getting her a little… excited, she tells herself. A good rival angel is a rare thing nowadays, she’s certainly lucky to have gotten one so clever to keep her entertained. A worthy opponent makes the taste of beating them (and of surprising them, like right now), eight times better.

Terezi smiles at her, as if accepting the challenge, and they never speak of this again[5].

* * *

Or maybe it starts a few days later, when the very same demon sees the very same angel’s new eyes, pure white and shining a little in that peculiar manner that is noticeable enough to send shivers down your spine, but not enough to make you ask about it out loud.

“You could miracle them back, you know”, Vriska says. She wouldn’t admit it, but she’s a little unsettled; she didn’t expect the blinding to be permanent, after all[6]. 

“I like it better that way,'' Terezi says calmly, tapping her fingers on the dragon head of her newly made cane.

“I could miracle them back, if that’s what you want,'' Vriska offers, a little frustrated, “I mean, if it makes you feel like you won, fine, I’ll do it for you.” 

“I like it better that way,'' Terezi repeats, “there are some advantages to this, you know?”

(She’s not lying — she’s been blind for a while, and she’s kind of getting used to it — for the first time in her life, the overwhelming loudness of other people’s (and her own) barely identifiable emotions doesn’t clash with endless visual brightness, sending her into sensory overload. It’s definitely nice, in a way, and she wouldn’t want to change it[7].)

“As you wish”, Vriska responds, rolling her eyes; she isn’t convinced, and something’s bothering her, — was she supposed to predict and avoid this? Did she go overboard? Is she supposed to be sorry? — so they return many times to this conversation[8]. 

* * *

Or, perhaps, it starts way later, when everything that could’ve been done to prevent the Apocalypse has been done, and when there isn’t much left to do but watch and hope the Antichrist does make the right decisions after all, thanks to their influence or not[9], with an angel and a demon holding onto each other without fully realizing it.

Perhaps it finally starts here, when they’re both a little more terrified than either of them would like to admit, both suddenly open enough to be each other’s support and not make up any excuses for it. 

* * *

Or it starts much earlier, with two angels holding hands in a garden.

They’re both a little weary from their work, be it divine justice or not, but standing here, under the trees, alone together with no-one to bother them, is comforting. They even restore to a simple conversation about human manners and customs and how strange and intriguing humans are; they’re both a little curious, and the idea of maybe asking to be sent to Earth for longer periods of time appears for a moment, though soon forgotten in favor of a more meaningless but softer conversation.

They’re standing face to face, hands joined, talking, and no matter the weariness and the divine justice, no matter the rightness and the wrongness and the thoughts one of them has been having for a while, they’re both comfortable. The hair of one of them, black, long and braided a little, as if she tried to braid it all, but then got bored and left it as it was[10], falls to her shoulders, and the other, Terezi, finds herself mesmerized. Their faces — the faces of their human forms — are young and still changing from the masculine shape they were given to the one they came to prefer, and for a moment, nothing really exists except for them and the little space separating them.

Terezi reaches up, standing on her tiptoes, and plants a small kiss on the other angel’s lips, as if not thinking about that at all[11].

Later that day, when they both regain their ability to talk, sitting together by the water, Terezi does get asked what that was.

“A kiss; it’s a human custom thing,” she explains, “humans kiss those they love and care about the most,” she thinks for a few seconds before adding, “I care about you the most.”

It’s a justification of a feeling she can’t yet find a word for — angels are beings of love, of course, and they’re supposed to love other angels, — it’s just that what she feels for her friend is nothing like her feelings about other angels, and it frightens her, and she wants a name for it and can’t find one. 

“I care about you the most too,” her friend returns, but she’s clearly distracted, thinking about something else.

* * *

Or maybe it starts less than a day from that, with angels grieving a Fall, an angel we know among them.

She refuses to talk about it any more than necessary, nods along to condolences (“A fellow Angel of Justice, it must be tragic news” and all), mostly not listening, says a few half-phrases about how it’s not the first Fall she’s witnessed and how she’ll just have to deal with it, and leaves as soon as she’s permitted to.

There’s a quiet place where she’d often stay when the world became overwhelming; other angels weren’t there, for the most part, which made it a nice spot to hide in for a while until she felt better. Terezi gets there instinctively, without thinking about it; she collapses on the ground, shielding herself with her scaled wings, as if hiding behind them or trying to protect herself, and, for the first time in her life, she cries. 

She doesn’t know what to call that feeling (it is normal to grieve a Fall, of course, everyone grieves; but that feeling in her chest isn’t simple grief, she knows that — she’s seen other angels Fall before and she never felt quite as strongly, like the world itself has collapsed), but it frightens and overwhelms her, and she hides behind her wings and cries like a human.

* * *

Or maybe it starts with a demon rushing to a human woman on a street and getting between her and the man who wouldn’t leave her alone, and doing so easily, not giving it much thought, as if she’s done similar things many, many times before[12]; it starts with an angel witnessing the situation, sensing the woman’s terror (and then, relief) and knowing the man has left, grumbling under his breath.

Maybe it starts with an angel who allows herself, if for a minute, to think of that demon as a friend she once had, and not her only weakness, the worst weapon the enemy could possibly use against her, not the fatal imperfection in her design that she can’t get rid of no matter how hard she tries.

Maybe she lets herself feel this way, maybe she even lets herself be weak, at least for a minute, as Vriska talks to the human woman and promises she’ll never be hurt again, and maybe that’s when it starts.

* * *

Or maybe it starts with an unfortunate execution and an angel who’s trying her best not to let her clothes burn. It’s not the burning that’s bothering her: she CAN prevent discorporation by believing, really hard, that it would be a lot of an inconvenience right now, and that’s exactly what she’s doing; but making all that effort AND planning escape at the same time is a little beyond her capabilities.

She’s certain she will figure it out in a few minutes, though.

Just a second ago, there was fire, and there was smoke, and there was a crowd making noises of witch-burning euphoria (farther) and noticeable confusion (closer); but now, all she feels is that pleasant tingle of someone else’s miracle well done and a very familiar presence of a certain demon.

“Did you really forget you were a woman, Your Honor[13]?” asks the demon, pretending to be annoyed, “I mean, the pursuit of justice and aaaaaaaall that, of course, but really?”

Had Terezi had pupils, she would’ve rolled her eyes. But, since an accident long ago, she has no pupils, and so she doesn’t roll anything.

“Are my clothes burned?” she asks instead.

“No”, Vriska grumbles, surprised, “but I think you should change anyway. That Neophyte Redglare attire is a little too… recognizable.”

And so Terezi changes — her hair uncurls from the neat twists it was put in and grows longer to then carefully style itself into locks; her face shape changes slightly, and so do her lips and her nose; her clothes change shape to become more commonstyle, the red lenses hiding her eyes lose both their strange color and their characteristic pointiness, and she even lets herself grow a few centimeters for good measure[14].

One conversation about her appearance later[15], she pulls a new, very simple cane out of thin air[16], and asks, matter-of-factly, whether a certain demon would like to have lunch (or is that dinner already?), since she’d refused the thank you and laughed at “it WAS rather considerate of you"[17], and the demon in question, equally unsure of the lunch or dinner matter, accepts the offer.

Perhaps it starts then.

* * *

Or maybe it starts with two presumably human women having a picnic on arguably off-duty hours. The child one of them should be supervising is having his daytime sleep, after all, so it only makes sense for her to go sit in the garden with her long-time friend[18], nothing suspicious at all.

That is to say, Terezi is just enjoying the sun. Vriska, who _ has _ jokingly called her a lizard for how she can just spend hours sitting in the sun with her eyes closed many times before[19] and now has no real reason to do this again, is just fiddling with the food basket. Quietly. Suspiciously quietly.

“Do you want a sandwich?” she finally asks, and, having gotten an affirmative hum out of Terezi, passes her one[20].

“What do normal people even eat when they have a picnic?” 

“No idea”, Vriska says, and Terezi hears her shift, trying to sit more comfortably. “Um, Terezi?” 

“Mmm?”

“I’ve just been thinking… about us, you know? I mean, we’ve had our fights,” she gestures vaguely and Terezi hears her hand fall softly to the picnic blanket, “and all, but I’m just glad this is where our paths took us. It probably sounds cheesy, but I really couldn’t even dream of a better friend than you”.

Terezi can hear the warmth in her voice. For a moment it’s obvious Vriska is not pretending for whoever might be listening[21] nor saying it out of obligation — she means every word, and it makes something turn over painfully in Terezi’s chest.

“Me either,'' she says, and then adds despite herself, “I can’t really imagine life without you by my side.”

A day later, in a compulsive but-what-if-we-missed-something check, Terezi will find out the boy they were trying to influence is not, in fact, the Antichrist, and the idyll of sitting together in the sun will be gone; but for now, it’s peaceful, and warm, and Terezi knows the warmth she’s feeling is not just the sun[22].

And maybe, it finally starts then.

* * *

Or perhaps it does start in a small village in the early days of humanity, where a certain angel sees a certain demon for the first time.

Maybe it starts when Terezi notices a familiar face in the crowd, and for a second, she forgets human bodies are supposed to breathe. She forgets a lot of other things too, though there are some she can’t help but remember; her old friend, or rather, someone who is very much_ not _ her old friend, doesn’t look evil. She looks curious, her head tilted at some woman she’s talking to. Terezi _ knows _ that expression, that curiosity, that appearance of someone who’s trying very hard to pretend they know what they’re doing —and for a second, it’s almost the same: a familiar face with a familiar expression, the same long black hair, still half-braided, the same eyes, as if nothing has changed.

Then, the demon turns her head and notices Terezi, surprise and interest written on her face, her left eye strangely multi-pupiled, and nothing is the same anymore.

Still, maybe it starts here.

* * *

Many things happen between all these events; men are set on fire, chalk is eaten, morals are discussed; hands brush, assumptions happen, a nineteen year old girl once asks them if they're dating[23] and they both try to forget about it; Vriska adjusts Terezi's collar or holds her by the arm on a busy street; Terezi runs her fingers through Vriska’s newly buzzed hair and officially announces that she loves it or pushes Vriska’s glasses, which stubbornly refuse to stay in place, up her nose carefully; they collaborate on impossible court cases where injustice is involved[24], do illegal political graffiti on abandoned buildings[25], scam the rich and redistribute the money, help women escape abusive households and do many other things on the wonderful intersection of “morally correct” and “illegal”, both paying attention to one of these things and closing their eyes to another[26]. Maybe it starts somewhere in-between, when nobody is really paying attention, maybe it slides quietly into their lives when they aren't looking; maybe no-one really knows when it starts.

But then again, does it really matter when it starts? What matters is where it ends, and that we know for certain.

It ends right after the world doesn’t, with an angel and a demon in a cottage in Tadfield they rented together for apocalypse-stopping and Antichrist-influencing purposes. Perhaps they’re both a little shocked and overwhelmed still. Perhaps they’re both also a little drunk. And, perhaps, a conversation of the end of the world, moving and changing in a hardly explicable manner, slowly shifts to them and whatever it is that they’re sharing.

Perhaps, some words are finally said; some things admitted, to themselves and to each other.

Perhaps, a kiss is shared. Or two. Or a hundred.

And perhaps, it does end here, with an angel and a demon in love close together soon after the almost-apocalypse.

* * *

Or maybe, just maybe, it ends in the garden[27] of a certain cottage where they actually did decide to settle, at least for a while, years later[28]. 

They’re standing together, talking of nonsensical matters such as the move and the decoration and the garden, which is rather nice, too bad it isn’t going to stay that way. The sun is shining bright, and Terezi is smiling, relaxed, her shiny eyes closed behind her pointy red sunglasses. Vriska is standing in front of her, and she too is warm, and comfortable, and easily distracted, and it’s only a matter of time — a matter of time — a matter of time —

—before Terezi gets an idea and reaches up, standing on her tiptoes, and kisses her. 

And it’s all the same as it was a long time before, and it’s nothing like that at all, and it’s just the way it’s supposed to be. 

And maybe, just maybe, that’s when it actually starts. 

* * *

**Notes:**

1For instance, right now she is pretending she's in this place on purpose, having planned to tempt the humans living here, and certainly not by accident, no sir, how could you possibly have thought that.[return to text]

2It's the first time ever that Vriska sees an angel, and the fact that they can be pretty like that WAS NOT included in the "how to be a demon 101" courses.[return to text]

3Obviously, the mystery involved disappears if you’re aware that she’s not, in fact, human.[return to text]

4Now, THAT’s an oversimplification.[return to text]

5They both do, however, think of this again. And again, and again, and again, and again.[return to text]

6She also finds Terezi’s eyes a little spooky. Not that she’d tell.[return to text]

7Though there’s a little more to it than just this explanation.[return to text]

8 Once, a few centuries later, after many things have happened and Terezi has blown Vriska’s arm off once again, this time by accident, she throws Vriska’s “but still, why didn’t you just heal them” back at her and her non-existent left arm. “Ah,” Vriska says, caught off guard, “it makes me think of you.”[return to text]

9Considering their influence was primarily teaching the kid and his friends to sculpt clay dragons, court roleplaying and getting a little too caught up in playing pirate games with them, surely it was a great base for all the right decisions.[return to text]

10Which is, of course, exactly what happened.[return to text]

11She has, in fact, been thinking about that for quite a while, since the moment she saw humans kiss around a few weeks ago, and she’s been thinking about that way more often than she'd like to admit, too.[return to text]

12And she has, obviously. In fact, Vriska’s dedication to protecting women even turned her into a few mythological characters of the sort that men view as monstrous and horrifying, and women — as protective and benevolent, which Terezi often pointed out after being laughed at for inspiring the concept of Lady Justice.[return to text]

13 A misnomer, technically, but not one Terezi would point out.[return to text]

14 It IS a good excuse after all.[return to text]

15A conversation in which a demon keeps revealing strange details she remembers about a certain angel's face, and in which an angel can't get an answer on whether or not she looks appropriate for a rather annoying while; a conversation they'd both rather forget, really.[return to text]

16 “Are you telling me you actually purchase those things from humans?”, Vriska asks, noticing the lack of a dragon head. 

“Well, yes, except for the sword inside. I just forget the sword isn’t supposed to be there.”

“There is a SWORD in there?”[return to text]

17 "Considerate" was, not that she'd tell, Terezi's third word choice, after "good" and "nice"; obviously, it was repeated, mockingly, many times, with an obvious "eight" dragged out at the end.[return to text]

18 They’ve agreed that, for the sake of maintaining a more successful human cover, they’ll pretend to be long-time friends. In theory, that would serve exactly two purposes: an easy explanation on why they know each other so well without invoking the whole “supernatural entities that were actually supposed to be fighting but weren’t, like, very good at it” thing and proof that they were by no means romantically involved.

In practice, though, they both just wanted to be friends.

[return to text]

19 Which has started long arguments on whether or not dragons are lizards (entirely inconclusive) AND on how much of a crime it is that neither of them has seen a dragon just laying there enjoying the sun in any sort of fantasy media (perfectly conclusive; human fantasy media, they’ve decided, always focuses on the wrong things).[return to text]

20Whether or not the sandwich in question was entirely edible by human standards is a heavy question —Terezi did have rather strange eating preferences, after all, and Vriska did know Terezi well enough to understand that. Perhaps, “was the sandwich entirely edible?” is simply the wrong question to ask. The right question to ask would be “did the sandwich contain at least 1 (one) edible ingredient?”, and the answer to that question would be “bread, probably, but I’m not sure”.[return to text]

21Which was the original excuse, after all.[return to text]

22But, perhaps, someone _ like _ the sun, bright, warm, blinding light and all. Forget that she thought that. _ Please _ forget she thought that.[return to text]

23There's a pause; they turn to each other, a movement mostly unreasonable in Terezi's case, and say, "kind of?" at the same time; the nineteen-year-old laughs.[return to text]

24Terezi as a lawyer, and Vriska as a luck-stealer and luck-redistributor.[return to text]

25Well, _ Vriska _ does the graffiti; Terezi just has a lot of fun.[return to text]

26 At least, that’s what they tell themselves. Vriska might or might not care about human women a whole lot for reasons that are by no means demonic, and Terezi might or might not enjoy all the fun of the illegal, but neither really likes to_ think _ about it.[return to text]

27The garden, obviously, is going to become a disaster rather soon, since neither of them has any particular interest in horticulture; the occasional guest will be rather uncomfortable, if not absolutely horrified, and both Vriska and Terezi will LOVE it that way.[return to text]

28“For a while” are key words here — neither of them is serious enough to live in the same place for long, after all.[return to text]

**Author's Note:**

> honestly I was very enthusiastic about this but now I'm just kind of disappointed. anyway


End file.
